Terrorist
by Negotiatrix
Summary: Terrorist: noun 1. a person, usually a member of a group, who uses terrorism. 2. a person who terrorizes or frightens others. 3. what Bruce Banner feels like when he looks at Natasha. A story of grown-ups behaving badly, this has dark and mature content.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story started out as a challenge to myself to write a complete story in a series of 100 word drabbles. I quickly realized I would need more than that, so there are longer chapters as well. I hope to develop a sense of anticipation in the reader with the 100 word peeks into what characters are thinking and feeling. Let me know what you think! Thanks!

-Neg

* * *

It seemed unbelievable that the confident, competent Natasha Romanov could be frightened; Bruce believed though. He knew about the gun quivering in her grip, the tiny squeak behind her spoken reassurances. He remembered the catwalk shuddering with her frenzied efforts to free herself, escape him, escape _them_.

Was he the only one who knew? Was there still another? He knew for certain he had terrorized her, and still did. He also knew for certain that he was desperate to protect her, to make sure she never felt fear again. His own terror was that the Other Guy felt the same.

* * *

A chrome buckle was clenched in his fist when he woke in the rubble, so he dropped it. While dressing he caught himself tucking it in his pocket. Strange. On the long ride he dug it out and examined it. Familiarity just barely tickled at his conscious mind, and he suspected this was something the Other Guy knew more about.

In the city, walking toward the rest of the group, he saw another glint of silver chrome. Flashing from her hip through the dusty air, drawing his eye to her curves. As if he needed, or _they_ needed an excuse.


	2. Chapter 2

The collection grew, and the compulsion. The Other Guy took them, but Bruce obsessed over them, even called them his Horde. He could spend hours looking at the objects, touching them, sorting them into piles, then secreting them away in special places. Under the spectrometer, or behind a cabinet, even one on the helicarrier. It wasn't shiny like the others, but it was special.

At every chance, he carefully unfolded the paper, chuckling to imagine the huge green fingers that first plucked it up. The angular script revealed made the Other Guy laugh instead. "Bruce frightens me even more."


	3. Chapter 3

FIRST INTERLUDE

"Tony? Did you know that Happy is having JARVIS perform queries to a Swedish database?"

"Of course. I had to approve it."

"But I don't think Happy did this."

"You're right. I didn't think so either. Someone accessed his profile to make the request. I just approved it to see what would come back. JARVIS locked up all the files, so there's no breach."

"And?"

"Eventually sh-, er, someone will check back for the results."

"Someone? What if Happy wants to use his own profile and it's locked?

"Happy? You know that's what made the bells ring in the first place. He never uses it."

"Well, did you look at the request?"

"Yeah, something mythological but I haven't checked the replies yet. Why?"

"Well, whoever made the original request is trying to get the results now. When JARVIS couldn't get your attention he sent them to me."

"Oh, really? Hm, I'll have to talk to him about that. You know what's funny? The person who did this tried getting into Bruce's profile first."

"It's information about dragons and serpents, not exactly Bruce's field. So why would someone use his profile when it's so obvious it's not him? Or Happy?"

"Dunno."

"Aren't you even curious? I mean, some of this stuff isn't even Scandinavian. There's Native American stories."

"Really? What tribe?"

"Umm, looks like mostly Shawnee."

"They're what, from the Midwest, right? Like Ohio?"

"And it's odd, like giant snakes seducing maidens."

"Wait, I've got to see this for myself."

"There are no pictures, Tony."

"Just send it over, please. Clearly JARVIS can't be counted on to do it."


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha did not like anyone knowing her fear. There were two who did, but, which was worse? Monsters were usually easy. They attacked, you fought them. There was no need to question, only react. Fear was not part of the relationship. People were different. People asked questions and expected answers. They had explanations but then... People were changeable.

With Bruce, she could not afford to just react. He was too quick for her. Meek, then angry. Suspicious then apologetic. Clumsy and shy, but then... She thought of the monster again. She could not decide which was worse, fear or desire.


	5. Chapter 5

They were all sitting around the conference table while Fury delivered a lecture to Stark. She saw a glint of sliver chrome sliding through Bruce's fingers as his eyes darted back and forth between the two arguing men. He was usually fidgeting with something. When he wasn't, he kept his hands clasped before him demurely; waiting for something else to pick up, toy with, caress.

Now he looked at her, and blushed. His hands disappeared under the table. She dismissed it from her mind, until his hot eyes met hers again, his lips quirked up in that small, apologetic smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Something brushed against her hand. She jerked, but it was only Clint drawing her attention from the argument to the paper he'd slid on her chair. Natasha wasn't focused on the debate about the Hulk's value though, but on what looked like one of her cam buckles in Bruce's hands.

The note was a lewd, but comic drawing of Hill distracting Fury so they could all sneak out. When Natasha didn't respond, he passed another, more serious, note. "Why are we all acting scared of something that's supposed to be on our side?" She wrote a reply to that.

* * *

AN: I've enjoyed the challenge of making each chapter exactly 100 words, three in Bruce's POV, and three that mirror them from Natasha's POV. Those are now a setup for the main body of what is turning into a rather dark story. The first interlude, and more to follow, are background. I hope this format is working for you readers. Thanks for your feedback and reviews so far! -Neg


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Here's little something to tide you over. School starts in three days and I'm running crazy trying to get ready (In my mundane life I'm a middle and high school science teacher). I still have lots of angst-filled things planned for Bruce and Natasha, and oh yeah, the Other Guy. So stay tuned!

INTERLUDE 2

"JARVIS, did you get it yet?"

"I have retrieved the information you requested."

"Then display it here, and erase all the queries."

"I am afraid I can not perform either of those actions"

"Why not?"

"The profile is now locked."

"Why?"

"You compromised a secure profile to make the queries, resulting in an automatic lock. Superuser override is required to make any changes."

"What is the superuser account?"

"Anthony Stark."

"Huj tebe na postnom masle!"

"I am sorry, I can not fulfill that request either."


	8. Chapter 8

"_Bruce frightens me even more._"

Clint glanced curiously at Natasha, but she was watching Fury. Before there was a chance to reply, Stark left the table, effectively ending the meeting. Fury stood his ground, arms crossed and feet spread, as the others got up one by one and left. Nothing had been resolved about Bruce and his Other Guy, but it was clear who had held this round.

Natasha was one of the first to leave after Stark, with Bruce's eyes following her all the way. Clint jumped up and went after Natasha, forgetting the note on his chair.

* * *

A/N: Okay, Taletha, flattery DOES work, so here you go!


	9. Chapter 9

He'd told her the real secret after they left restaurant; that crazy place Tony took them to, where it was warm and cozy, and best of all, quiet. No reporters, no aliens, no talking even. Clint, she already knew, never was much for talking in any circumstances, and it seemed that the rest of them felt the same. After a couple attempts at wise cracks, even Tony had settled into just eating and recovering. It was nice, just sharing a meal together. She thought that maybe, just maybe, this team could work. But then they left the restaurant.

The military personnel were done with search and rescue. Those still doing street cleanup were giving the team a wide berth, and they all just shuffled through the debris toward Stark Tower. Steve and Thor led the way, with Bruce and Tony behind them. Natasha stayed by Clint, thinking about Budapest and his remark about it. She had only meant to compliment his usefulness here, even among these superhuman, and non-human, allies. Was he referring to what happened later? She herself had nearly forgotten about it, until now. She wondered if asking him what he meant would be a bad idea.

Her was guard down, so she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings the way she should have been. She should have noticed that her situation had changed. She turned to Clint, but found Bruce walking beside her now. She stopped, startled, and he turned to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the other men up ahead. He smiled that small, frightening smile of his, then suddenly sidestepped into a gap between buildings, grabbing her arm and pulling her with him.

Bruce shoved her against the wall, his hands pressing her shoulders back, his body pinning her. She didn't like how he was avoiding meeting her eyes. She glanced around the narrow space they were in and belatedly assessed her vulnerabilities and assets. There were not many of either, though the close quarters did give her an advantage if he transformed. Natasha gathered herself together, ready to react, and waited for either Bruce or the Other Guy to make the next move.

"This is your fault _Agent_ Romanoff," he was saying. His mouth was right above her ear, his lips brushing against it. She shivered. The way he said the word "agent" was like a curse.

"You brought me into this. You said all I had to do was locate the device. But now, now they won't ever let me go." Bruce moved one hand and slowly pressed it down over her pounding heart.

"Your heart rate is very elevated, Agent Romanoff. Are you scared of _him_?" He closed his fingers around her breast and squeezed. He ground his hips, and an impressive erection, against her.

Natasha didn't respond, her brain trying to calculate the likelihood of Clint or the others noticing that she and Bruce were missing, how much of a head start a kick to his groin would get her, whether that would do more harm than good. She tried to catch his eye, to get him to look at her, but he was staring at his hand on her breast.

"I asked you before if you wanted to know my secret," he said, his breath heavy. Natasha remembered his confession of attempted suicide before that, then his harsh panting in the wrecked depths of the helicarrier afterward.

"We were interrupted by _him_," Bruce went on. She remembered his clenched fists, his snarling anger when she tried to calm him. He finally looked right at her and she remembered the crazed look in his eyes then, so similar to what she was seeing now.

"_He_ doesn't want you to know it; _he_ wants to protect you." Then he let her go and staggered further into the alley, and just like on the helicarrier, Natasha ran in the other direction.

* * *

A/N: I did call this story Terrorist for a reason.

-Neg


	10. Chapter 10

He didn't like it, didn't like it at all. He should have had more control than what he exhibited in that alley. He wasn't sure what was the Other Guy and what was himself; couldn't be sure there was a difference anymore. He used to monitor himself so carefully, but then he got confident, and that had made him vulnerable.

A woman like Natasha should not have that sort of effect on him. She wasn't Betty. He writhed inwardly knowing what Betty would think of him, could she see him now. But she couldn't, and he didn't like that either.


	11. Chapter 11

Clint sort of liked it when Natasha depended on him, it was such a rare occurrence. That day in New York, he was walking along, talking security with Stark. She just came up and fell into step beside him, lacing her fingers with his. He put a little more swagger in his walk and enjoyed the feeling while it lasted.

But her coy dependence did last. When he read the note, and saw the way Bruce looked at her across that conference table, he thought he understood why. He followed her out anyway, not sure what he should hope for.


	12. Chapter 12

Even in the midst of chaos, she could not help but pay attention to those little details that either did not matter much, or mattered more than anything. Her life centered around having backup, and her clothing was no exception. Spare cartridges, wire, descenders, and cams were part of her specially designed outfit. She took pride in how well it fit together and fit her, a must in this line of work.

The only exception was the communicator's earpiece. She'd never found a style that didn't bother her sensitive ears, but wearing one was required. Now it was missing.


	13. Chapter 13

The helicarrier always made Bruce want to run again, to escape into third-world anonymity. Something, someone, wouldn't let him though, and it was useless anyway. SHIELD would find him. He was trapped, surrounded on all sides, even inside, and he wanted to roar out his frustration. Or was that the Other Guy?

He thrust his hands into his pockets and his fist clenched around something metallic. He stilled, his breath quickening. When did he get another? He turned back to the workbench, and checking that Tony couldn't see, he pulled the object out and placed it reverently on the counter.

* * *

Tony swung his chair around and sighed deeply. It was nice to finally be done with the tedious calibration. All was quiet in the lab, though apparently at some point Bruce had arrived and was absorbed in something. It was too quiet, and besides now was as good a time as any to find out something he'd wanted to know.

"So," he said loudly. Bruce startled and looked up a little guiltily. Interesting. He went on, "You mentioned that you're always angry."

Bruce pocketed something, but didn't answer. The two men just stared at each other for a moment, measuring each other.

"Well, I've done some, ah, _things_, that I'm not proud of. As you know." Bruce said finally, walking over to the interferometer and fiddling with its knobs.

"Hm. Well, yeah, you wrecked Harlem. But what other things?"

"You seriously think I want to tell you that?" Bruce stopped fiddling and turned his full attention to Tony. "Wait, what exactly are you wanting to know?"

"Look, I get the being angry all the time part. I've been there." He tapped his power supply. "This thing that saved my life also nearly killed me in a slow painful way. While it was killing me, I tried pushing away everyone important to me. All two of them, then." He cleared his throat, looking away. Bruce waited.

"But it changed me. Forever. And then it gave me everything I'd ever wanted." Tony swallowed, clearly taken by strong emotion, but then collected himself. "I'm just not sensing that you've gotten to that point yet. No matter what you're trying to make us think with all your talk about acceptance, you are still mad. Angry if you will."

He fidgeted, drummed his fingers on the bench, then said, "I think you're still wanting to try putting that bullet in your mouth."

The two men stared at each other in silence, again. "You're right," Bruce finally said, then looked away. "I think about it every day."

After an uncomfortable moment, Bruce took off his glasses in the now-familiar gesture, folded the temples, and put them in his shirt pocket. "I have to go check on the differential voltmeter setup," he said while getting something out of a storage cabinet, then left the room.

Tony returned to his desk. He'd confirmed what he suspected, unfortunately. Allowing himself to finally love the real Pepper, and not just the Perfect Pepper on a Pedestal he'd worshiped before, made him appreciate his friends all the more. All two of them now, Rhodey and Bruce. He thought it would be nice to keep the numbers up. Maybe he would talk to Pepper about it.

* * *

A/N: A twofer this time. A 100 word drabble, and a whole scene. Those men, so good at saving the world, and so bad at helping each other. -Neg


	14. Chapter 14

In the corridor the claustrophobic feeling was worse for Bruce. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of things he had done. Repairs were still being made in some areas, and workers' eyes followed him nervously, wondering if he was there to make more work for them. He began to feel different again. He didn't like it, and turned into one of the lesser used corridors. .

On the way out of the main lab he had picked up another of his treasures, a barrette. He turned it in his fingers now as he walked and thought of it holding her hair off her face, exposing her delicate ears. He knew they were sensitive. He had seen the way she constantly tweaked the position of her earpiece. He would fix that for her, it was the least he could do. It would be hard to give that treasure up again though.

He remembered how she had trembled when he spoke into her ear in that alleyway. He'd liked seeing how his breath stirred the fine hair around her face. He was glad she didn't figure it out, their secret. Bruce had revealed far too much. It was good that she ran.

Then, as if called up by his fevered imagination, she was there, and he wasn't glad anymore. He was angry.

* * *

Seemingly out of nowhere, he was in the corridor. He blocked her way, then used his body to force her back, up against the corridor wall. Caressing her cheek lightly with one hand, the other roughly pushed her hair back behind her left ear where her communicator should have been.

His finger traced around the shell of her ear. Natasha shivered. "Missing something?' he asked. She didn't really understand, but it was hard to think past his manipulation of her senses. "Come and get it," he taunted, then strode down the corridor and disappeared into an equipment room.

* * *

A/N: A little preview:

'His harsh, panting breaths cut off in a surprised grunt when she pushed the door all the way open and stepped in. Bruce, or something like Bruce lifted his head. His expression was one that she understood very well and she finally understood his secret.'

-Neg


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: This was a difficult chapter for me to write because of the conflict between what I want the story to be like and what I know the real world is like. I feel compelled to point out what I hope is obvious to you, dear reader: What we want in a fanfic or movie or anime is sometimes bad, hurtful, or even illegal, in the real world. Please, please do not ever think that just because I and other authors can make a character enjoy, or seem to enjoy, being treated badly, that you should allow yourself to be treated badly. Bad things come from taking advantage of others, or allowing it for yourself, even in this story. Okay, lecture is over . . .-Neg

* * *

Natasha wondered if she was under some sort of hypnosis. She should be running, very fast, in the opposite direction. She didn't understand why she was instead walking right up to the door he'd disappeared behind. There was no good reason that she should be putting her hand on the doorknob, turning it, and pushing open the door a bit.

There was shelving unit along the same wall as the door. Light from the corridor spilled in and revealed a cleared space with two small objects in the center: a barrette and a communicator earpiece. She recognized both of them, as well as the large hands braced against the edge of the shelf.

His shirtsleeves were straining to cover the growing flesh. His harsh, panting breaths cut off in a surprised grunt when she pushed the door all the way open and stepped in. Bruce, or something like Bruce lifted his head. His expression was one that she understood very well.

She closed and locked the door behind her, plunging the room into complete darkness. She reached out to find him, then pressed her body against his. He groaned, and she felt his body changing more, heard fabric tearing.

"I get it now," she said, leaning her head against his broad back. His skin was hot against her cheek. "I know what you need." She pulled at the waistband of his tattered pants and they dropped to the floor. Her hands slid down his thighs, and back up. She enjoyed the feel of his muscles moving, rippling under his skin. He was somewhere between himself and the Other Guy. Not quite the Hulk, but not quite normal either. She knew what to do to stop him from completely transforming.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to understand," she said, but he cut her off by grunting and rocking his hips forward so that his erection pushed into her hand, hard and demanding.

She was startled when her fingers wouldn't even wrap all the way around the huge thing, but felt a thrill of satisfaction. She knew how to tame this monster, and it was a secret as old as time and as familiar to her as her job.

She squeezed and stroked, and they found a rhythm together. She rubbed her body against his, aroused by the animal noises he was making, and her own feeling of power. It wasn't long before she felt the huge climax ripple through his whole body, so powerful that she expected to be deafened by his roar. He was strangely quiet though, limiting himself to one prolonged groan that ended with a soft sigh. It was a sound of utter satisfaction, of relief.

His erection was softened and smaller. Her breasts pressed against a normal man-sized, but still muscular back. She shifted, restless in her own unfulfilled condition and then was surprised to feel him hardening again in her hand.

Before she realized even what was happening, he had turned and pushed her to the floor. His body, still normal seeming, pinned her down while one hand fumbled roughly at the waistband of her jeans. His other hand was in her hair, holding her in a painful grip. Once he had the jeans down, he pushed her legs apart with his, and settled himself heavily on top of her, his new erection impatient against her thigh.

"Bruce, I don't understa..." he cut her off by grabbing her jaw and turning her head. He breathed into her ear, and laughed when her whole body trembled helplessly beneath his. Then his teeth nipped her earlobe at the same time that he thrust himself inside her. Natasha cried out, and she herself didn't know if it was in fear or desire.

Bruce, or whoever, whatever he was whispered, "Now it's _my_ turn."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: And now, a few words from the Other Guy. -Neg

* * *

Yes, he was always angry. What good person wouldn't be, living with what they had done? But mostly what Bruce had done. It used to be easier. He could just smash. But smashing sometimes hurt people. That made him sad, and angry too. But then he could go away, and neither of them had to remember anything.

Now it was different. Bruce figured out their secret and used it. That was bad enough, but what Bruce was doing now was, should be, an abomination. He didn't use that word easily, it meant bad memories, and remembering made him angry.


	17. Chapter 17

"Hey, Stark! Wait up. I want to ask you about Natasha, er, Agent Romanoff."

"Watch out there, Boy Wonder, I think you just used a woman's first name. Do you have honorable intentions, or do I need to get Clint in here?"

"Be serious. There's a reason I'm talking to you and not Clint."

"Really? Well, let's hear it."

"I think Fury's got Agent Romanoff doing something she doesn't want to do."

"Seriously? Natasha? The woman who hasn't cracked a smile since Chechnya? She _never_ looks like she wants to do anything."

"This is different. I know Fury has her assigned as a sort of, I don't know, attendant to Dr. Banner. She's supposed to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't, well, Hulk-out when Fury doesn't want him to."

"Well, I have a whole raft of objections to Fury trying to micromanage Bruce's life, but what exactly is your point?"

"Don't ask me how I know, but she's scared. I'm wondering if she needs some sort of protection."

"You are really the last boy scout, aren't you? She shouldn't _need_ protection. She could take out Bruce with her big toe while doing the New York Times Saturday crossword puzzle. I saw her take down Happy- you know, my chauffeur- just by batting her eyelashes at him."

"Yeah, but what about The Other Guy?"

"Hm, good point. Well, he only transforms during those exercises Fury makes him do, so I don't see a problem there."

"That's what we know of. How much do we really understand about what goes on in that guy's head? I thought you were the man to go to for help on this, but maybe I was wrong."

"Oh don't go getting all offended now. You're right, I _am_ the man to go to. Clint certainly can't think clearly about anything to do with Natasha, and Fury has his own secret-squirrel agenda."

"I almost think I understood that, but I'm not sure. So, you know Banner better than the rest of us. Is is okay? You know, to be around people?"

"Sure he is. I mean, I wouldn't have him over at Stark Tower all the time otherwise, would I?"

"Yeah, about that, haven't you noticed that Natash-, er, Agent Romanoff never goes there anymore? She used to visit with Pepper from what I hear, but now she never leaves the helicarrier unless Fury directly orders her to."

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, you're right again. That's a record! Okay, I hate to say it, but I think I'm going to have to go to Pepper for advice on this one. But I'm still going to want to know what made you think Natasha's afraid. _That_ sounds like a good story."

"So you're going to talk to Pepper about the feelings of another woman? Wow."

"Yeah, pray for me, buddy"


	18. Chapter 18

The things he whispered when they were in the dark together haunted her. He seemed to take a special pleasure in tormenting her, knowing her weakness and exploiting it mercilessly. If only he wouldn't say anything real. But he did.

"_You're really good at your job, Natasha."_

_"This is your fault, Natasha."_

_"You promised you'd get me out of this, but I'm still here, Natasha."_

_"You're just as trapped as I am, Natasha."_

They always did it twice. Always. Sometimes the first would be the harsh, mean one, when he talked and whispered and demanded. Other times it would be the gentle, even loving one that was first. He never spoke during that lovemaking, except for once. His voice then had sounded like the echo of something distant and huge. Booming, yet barely audible.

"I'm sorry," he'd said. She wished she could have seen him then, but it was always dark in those places he would take her to.

She never sought him out, and even worked to avoid him. More and more she kept to the helicarrier, unless ordered otherwise by Fury. When Bruce was on board, she tried to stay by Clint. She felt a little guilty about that, having finally figured out that he was looking for more than the occasional hook-up after a mission. They had several times in the past turned to each other for physical comfort and pleasure, but not since New York. Not since Bruce, or the other one, had laid claim to her.

"_You're mine now, Natasha."_ he told her many times. But who was he? She couldn't tell the man from the monster. In the light, in the company of others, he seemed like a normal person, or as normal as any of them could be. At first, he was even more deferential to her at those times.

Once, right after a meeting and before she could bolt from the room, he came up to her and awkwardly grabbed her hand in his. It took every ounce of her considerable control to not draw her weapon, jerk her hand away, or cry out, "No. Please, no." But all he did was pull her fist open and lay something on her palm.

"I fixed it for you," he said, looking at her earnestly. It was her communicator earpiece, the one he had taken from her at some point. "I saw that it bothered you, that your ears are sensi-"

"Shut up!" Natasha hissed, but too loudly. Everyone still in the room turned to look at them in surprise.

Bruce then did something she never expected. He blushed and ducked his head. "I'm sorry." he said simply, then walked out. She tried it on later, and somehow, it fit so well she didn't feel it there at all, but when she took it off it seemed like something was missing.

Sometimes he would have something of hers in his hands: an ammunition clip, some coiled wire, or a pen she had just been using. Seeing whatever it was he had taken, she knew he would be coming to get her soon. To take her to one of the dark places. To make her writhe in pleasure, or else anguish, unless it was both. And she would go, willingly, because he had whispered to her what would happen if she didn't.

Once, when Bruce had just cornered her in the medical bay (she should have known better than to ever go _there_), Rogers had walked in.

"Oh! Ah, excuse me, I'm sorry." he said, blushing and stammering at first. It had been dark of course, but light spilled in around Rogers' silhouette in the doorway. She blinked at the sudden brightness, and her relief at the interruption must have shone just as brightly because Rogers reached out to her and said, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, she will be," Bruce interrupted without turning around. "Just as soon as you leave."

Rogers was going to pursue the matter, but Natasha mouthed, "Go." As she knew he would, he backed out, leaving the door open. When his footsteps had faded, Bruce viciously kicked the door shut.

She wondered if it was all in her head. Bruce's behavior, even his speech patterns, became more erratic after each time he transformed into the Hulk for Fury's so-called training, yet no one said anything. She became more jumpy and irritable, and no one seemed to notice. Except maybe for Rogers, but he didn't say anything, so she didn't either. She had never shirked on an assignment and she wouldn't start now.

Clint, as always, loved to tease her, saying she needed to get out and assassinate someone to let off steam. It bothered now though. Even worse was when Stark made a horrible joke about her needing to get laid. That one had brought tears to her eyes, which in itself was strange. She knew that she would normally have thrown him across the room for a remark like that, or at the very least responded with something biting and sarcastic. Instead, though she didn't understand herself, she fled the room.

Rogers came after her and she told him it was her 'time' to be overly emotional was all. Stupid man believed her too. But of course, it wasn't true. She didn't have cycles anymore, not since the "enhancements" SHIELD had done to her years ago.

Thanks to SHIELD, her aging was slowed, her body's ability to repair itself was accelerated, and she would never get a communicable disease, or pregnant either. She could screw anyone she wanted to, as much as she wanted to, with no consequences. It was a good thing too, since screwing whoever she was told to was part of her job. And she was good at her job. Bruce had told her so.

* * *

A/N: Believe it or not, I really liked Natasha in the movie. I even liked Banner. In fact, I'm totally convinced that the movie implies a canon relationship between them. (Sorry Clint) In the final scene, she's handing him his overnight bag (ahem!) and smiling, and look at the two of them in the shwarma place. They are totally making googly-eyes at each other across the table and Banner even nods and smiles at her!

The evil muse of this story however has me thinking that if I ever had the opportunity to meet Mark Ruffalo, instead of getting his autograph, I'd want to kick him in the groin and run. -Neg


	19. Chapter 19

Appropriate that the change began while she watched, there in front of Grand Central Station. He'd transformed smoothly, coherently, aware. It was incredible, like his first orgasm: fast and uncontrollable. He wanted to do it again, and again. So he did, for Fury instead, though it wasn't as fun.

The woman was fun, and useful, so he used her. She kept them from thinking too much. Thinking had gotten them into this, and he wasn't so eager to get out anymore. He knew he would figure it out, if he focused on the problem and not her.

* * *

A/N: Confused yet? Good. So is Natasha.

-Neg


	20. Chapter 20

"Ha! It's sex! I knew it!" Tony slammed a hand on the table in triumph and spun around on his stool. "Yoga, phfft! Nothing beats a good romp for relaxation, eh? So, like, how often are you doing it?"

Bruce suddenly began violently coughing, or possibly laughing. Tony couldn't tell, but either way, it wouldn't stop him from pursuing the matter now that it was out. It had taken him weeks of guessing and watching Bruce's reactions before hitting on what should have been obvious. Anger did not explain everything about the Hulk.

"Really, what does it take to keep your Other Guy, you know, cute and cuddly instead of all _rawr_ and smashy?"

Bruce took his glasses off and folded them carefully. "Well, um, twice seemed to work well."

"Twice? What, a week?"

Bruce cleared his throat and said, "A day, usually."

Tony just blinked, speechless for one of the few times in his life. Then he got up and moved across the room toward Bruce. "You are a busy man! How do you pull that off? I mean, I've got Pepper, and you know, a steady relationship, and I get all giddy if we find the time to do it two nights in a row."

He flung his hands up in the air and paced back across the lab. "And before her, well, reputation not withstanding, I felt pretty good about getting it a few times a week! But twice? A day?" Tony turned to face Bruce again and crossed his arms across his chest. "I don't believe you."

"In India, and well, other places like that, it's really not that difficult to accomplish."

Tony continued to stare at him, and Bruce fidgeted with the dials of the equipment, unable to meet his eyes. Tony walked over to stand on the other side of the workbench, waiting until Bruce finally looked at him before speaking.

"So, you take advantage of, what, young girls? Or wait, young _boys_ are the thing in Asia, right? And just what have you been doing about this _here_, in _my_ house?"

"Are you still trying to test me, to make me mad?" Bruce said softly. "Because it's working this time."

"I just want to know what kind of person I've allowed into my home, introduced to my, well, to Pepper."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before introducing me then. After all, I'm essentially a stranger to you no matter what you may have read in my files, or tried to learn by poking around in my past." The two men continued to stare each other down.

"You won't get anywhere with that by the way," Bruce said, putting his glasses on and returning to the machine's controls. "I've already tried to find a connection in those legends, but it's a dead end."

Tony cocked his head, trying to figure out where Bruce was going with that, but then filed it away to think on later. He came around the table to confront Bruce even more directly. For now, he had a security risk to deal with.

"Explain to me exactly what you are doing, here and now, about this need of yours and I'll decide whether you get to live to do it again."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the threat, but let it pass. "Look," he said. "It was very simple in India. As far as anyone was concerned, I was just a doctor who didn't need money. I would treat a child's pneumonia, or stitch up a machete wound, or..., or give medicine to someone's grandmother, you know? And they were so grateful, but they're poor, and I'm western, so they kind of expect me to, you know..." He cleared his throat and moved around to the other side of the table, putting some distance between himself and Tony again.

"I'd get a meal, or some supplies, maybe a ride on the family's donkey over the mountain to the next town. But I also could have a place to spend the night, and someone to spend it with."

Tony was still stone-faced, so Bruce went on. "A woman, Tony. Well, I suppose technically some of them were still girls, but very mature, well-developed girls, above our age of legal consent. Okay? No boys, no children, no girls that looked like children. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"_Were_ they consenting? These mature girls of yours? And no, my curiosity is not satisfied. You still haven't told me about here and now."

"It's different now, and there is no here. This is your territory, your home, and I respect that." His glasses were off again, and he was twisting them in his hands.

Remembering what Rogers had said about Natasha, Tony had to question the whole respect thing. There was something wonky going on, or Bruce wouldn't be so worked up.

"Somehow, I'm not comforted by that, and you're avoiding answering my question. You should know that I'm keeping an eye on you."

"You mean like Fury?"

Tony couldn't control his reaction to that remark with the memories it brought up, and he burst out laughing. He slapped a startled Bruce on the shoulder, then pointed to the readings on the computer screen. "Look, I _told_ you it was corona leakage. Use the 200 spacer on it next time." Bruce put his glasses back on and peered at the screen.

Tony headed for the elevator, but called back, "And make sure Pepper doesn't find TMZ hiding with cameras under the sewer grates, waiting for a shot of some hottie you've brought home. It's not pretty when she gets a hold of those guys."

Both men chuckled, the strained mood seemingly broken.

"JARVIS!" Tony snapped out a few minutes later from the private elevator on his way up to the top levels.

"Yes sir?"

"I want to know everything Banner does, every minute he's in this building. Or anywhere else you are able to monitor."

"You know that I already do that for everyone in the building, sir."

"Yes I know! Just do it more!" Tony took a deep breath and tried to rein in his worried thoughts. "Keep an eye on him and let me know if anything strange is happening."

"Define 'strange' please, sir."

"Anything threatening, or . . ."

The elevator doors opened, revealing Pepper sprawled across the couch, her bare feet waving in the air. Tony smiled, thinking of how much he enjoyed this new casual side of the woman he'd thought he knew so well. She was working, as always, on her laptop, but sat up and put it aside when the elevator dinged. She flashed her brilliant, trusting smile, and he suddenly felt queasy.

"JARVIS," he said under his breath, "I just want you to alert me, anytime, anywhere, if Banner is within 30 feet of Pepper. Priority Alpha."

"Understood, sir."

"Tony? Is something wrong?" Pepper walked around the seating area to embrace him as he exited the elevator.

"Nope. Nothing at all." He put on his most reassuring smile, then distracted himself and Pepper the best way he knew how.


End file.
